


Authority

by UnknownSatellite84



Series: Seventh Heaven [3]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Agressive Barry Allen, Alternate Season 03 Episode 01, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Angry Sex, Begging, Bottom Barry, Bottom Eobard, Choking, Consensual But Not Safe Or Sane, Control, Dark, Dark Barry Allen, Dirty Talk, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eobard Being an Asshole, Explicit Sexual Content, Extremely Dubious Consent, Fight Sex, Flashpoint (DCU), Fucked Up, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I'm Going to Hell, M/M, Male Homosexuality, Male Slash, Mild Blood, Non-Lubricated Penetration, Not Canon Compliant, Pain Kink, Painful Sex, Pet Names, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Porn with Feelings, Possessive Sex, Post-Coital Cuddling, Referenced Masturbation, References to Drugs, Rough Sex, Self-Hatred, Shameless Smut, Sleepy Cuddles, Somnophilia, Sorry Not Sorry, Suit Kink, Suit Porn, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Top Barry Allen, Top Eobard Thawne, Unconscious Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-13
Updated: 2017-07-13
Packaged: 2018-12-01 04:32:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11478663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnknownSatellite84/pseuds/UnknownSatellite84
Summary: " A black emotion reared in his heart along with his hate, a sensation that might have scared him if he'd stopped to examine it.Bring the Flash suit,Thawne had demanded.He felt his face twist in a savage grin.'Alright, Thawne... I’m going to show you to be careful what you wish for.' ”************************************************************************************Eobard Thawne seduced Barry Allen twice. Because of this, Barry wants control of himself...and maybe revenge. What ensues is not what either of them expects.





	Authority

**Author's Note:**

> So, instead of finishing up the new chapter for Reversed, I wrote this trashy trashiest trash that ever trashed... And yup, as predicted, this utter garbage just got filthier and more terrible. (someone save my poor, hell-condemned soul...) T-T Nobody shot me after that last pornographic fic, so it's technically you readers' fault. (Just kidding, by the way, in case this serious-ass text doesn't make it clear.)
> 
> Now, for the serious stuff...  
>  ** **BE AWARE**** \- technically, though everything that takes place in this fic is consensual...like the tags say, it is **EXTREMELY DUBIOUS AND NOT SAFE OR SANE**. It is rough. It is violent. It is full of hate. Eobard has very little morality...and Barry...well, has his darker side, too, of course... But he is also guilty as fuck _ex post facto_... 'cause let's face it, he has a guilt-complex the size of freaking Antarctica...  
>  But again, **there is no actual non-con here.** This is still a really fucked up fic, moreso than my last two in this series. Sorry, not sorry... 
> 
> But please take into account my crazy-ass tags...it's why they're there. If something sounds like...not your thing, you can back out. :)
> 
> By the way, somnophilia, in case you don't know that word, literally means - "a paraphilia in which an individual becomes sexually aroused by someone who is unconscious." 
> 
> :| *poker face*
> 
> Ahem... If you're still around, hope you enjoy reading! ;)

There was something to be said about addictions.

Barry had one.

His name was Eobard Thawne.

He'd seen in his time as a Crime Scene Investigator people who'd suffered the consequences of their own addictions - horrible domestic fights caused by drunken madness, dead bodies left behind after an overdose of heroine or cocaine, serial killers sentenced to the gas chamber because they couldn't stop killing, and so on and so forth. He realized all criminals were really just addicts to one negative thing or another - alcohol, money, killing, destruction, indulgence, ect...

The Flash - once the shining, celebrated hero of Central City - was now no better than any of them.

In all honesty, though, he didn’t even know how he felt. He thought he’d feel guilty again, lower than low. And yes, _of course he did_. But there was also a smoldering defiance beneath that feeling, overlaying it, a part of him that refused to be condemned for the vile thing he’d done.

He didn’t understand this atypical dichotomy of feelings.

All he knew, was that he'd wanted Eobard - had maybe wanted him even before the malignant speedster had seduced him - and there was a part of him desperately trying to justify it. He ran through all the possible reasons, including, but not limited to - desperation, a complete lack of a sex life, opposites attracting, to even the possibility that being a speedster had pushed his sex drive into _overdrive_. After all, he'd grown bold enough to tell Iris his feelings, even if Eddie had made them irrelevant. And it wasn't long after that he'd gotten close with Patty  _very_ quickly, even not really feeling anything more than surface feelings for her. In other circumstances, he would never have even dated her. Maybe there _was_ a "lightning psychosis" that instead of causing "random outbursts of affection", caused _random outbursts of sexual need._

It made sense, he supposed. Hadn't he also jacked off several times in superspeed? He hadn't really been much of a masturbator before getting his speed. Well, not as much of one, anyway.

Eobard had offered himself willingly, and Barry had given in. It _had_ to be something biological caused by being a speedster...

Or maybe, just maybe, he lusted for Eobard and Eobard alone and there was no logical reason as to _why_ anywhere in the entire multiverse.

It was probably the former.

He hoped.

He moodily sat on his bed, cross-legged, not even trying to distract himself this time. He thought and thought and thought, because why the hell not? There was privacy in his mind, and he huddled there in it, in spite of the fact that Eobard Thawne still lurked in all the corners there. He could see the speedster’s strong body without even trying, the rippling muscles, the piercing, fiendish glare, the cruel, hate-filled grin. He thought of the strength that lay there in his worst enemy and just how dangerous he was...but he was done being scared of Eobard Thawne. He was done being scared of this new thing between them. He was done being out of control.

He wasn’t helpless.

He had once been the Flash.

And there was something that had occurred to him after his last “visit” to the warehouse, after he’d last surrendered to Thawne’s pleasures...

He supersped off the bed over to his closet, pulling out an old trunk. He phased the lock off and brushed dust from the cover. He flipped the lid and was greeted with the once-familiar white and yellow emblem of a lightning bolt with a plain background.

Thawne thought he was better - better as both a human being, and as a villain.

A strong, dark hatred rose in Barry's chest, the same anger he’d felt when he'd stared at the man wearing Doctor Wells' face through the glass door of a containment cell, anger he’d felt when he’d chased Reverse Flash endlessly through Central City's maze of streets and roads, anger he’d felt when Thawne had been about to stab his mother in the heart and he'd growled, _"you're not ever going to kill her again!"_

He had almost pummeled him to death right there in his parent's house.

How he'd wanted to _so_ badly.

But he hadn't. No matter what Thawne had done to him, he wasn’t a killer. Thawne couldn’t make him one, either.

He was better - not just better than the Reverse Flash, but also all the criminals he had or hadn't helped put away. He was a hero. He wasn't an addict. He had control over this desire. Or at the very least, he _would_ gain control of it. All he needed to do was seize ahold of and _use it._ He had to prove that he could, not just to himself, but also to Eobard.

_My Flash. My Barry._

Eobard had claimed him possessively in both timelines - maybe for entirely different reasons in each one, but the underlying meaning was the same. _I control your life. I control_ you _._

_No. You don't._

A black emotion reared in his heart along with his hate, a sensation that might have scared him if he'd stopped to examine it.

_Bring the Flash suit_ , Thawne had demanded.

He felt his face twist in a savage grin.

“Alright, Thawne... I’m going to show you to be careful what you wish for.”

* * *

Eobard looked up at the sound of the warehouse door opening. In a burst of Speed Force, Barry appeared. Eobard felt his eyes widen when he saw the red suit with the white emblem and golden lightning bolt, though it wasn't nearly as extravagant as the future version of it. “Huh,” he said aloud without meaning to. A sensation struck him, wild and needy. He stood and leaned against the cage, not bothering to hide how much the sight of the suit sent him into spirals of dizziness. It felt like years since he'd last seen Barry Allen as the actual hero of Central City, the Scarlet Speedster...

The _Flash_.

The Flash walked up to the cage, eyeing him. “I hate you,” he growled, but his voice was thick with need and lacked conviction. The suit was bulging between his legs, even if he seemed to be ignoring it for now. He held up a bag that proclaimed _Big Belly Burger._

“And I hate you,” Eobard returned, gleeful. He felt his hands curl into eager fists. "God, I’m glad you aren’t as stupid as I originally thought.”

Flash was in the cell in the next moment, and he pressed up against Eobard. "I hate you, but I want you," he snapped, almost sounding accusatory, as if he blamed Eobard and resented him for this transgression on his own part. And it was probably fair. After all, Eobard _had_ seduced him first.

_I want you_ echoed in Eobard's head, though. "Then come get me, _Flash_."

The Flash shoved Eobard against the wall, nipping at his jawline with sudden authority in spite of his ragged beard, as if the red suit had given him some much needed confidence. Eobard wasn't going to have it, though, not after what the older Flash had put him through. He snarled, thrusting Barry back. He moved to seize his hips, intending to take charge, but Barry's fist collided with his abdomen. He coughed, doubling over.

Amazement struck him at this abrupt violence. He'd been certain Barry would surrender to his touch the second he gave it.

"So that's how it's going to be, huh?" He gasped.

“I'm not your pet or your toy, Thawne,” the man in red snarled. “I’m not your Flash, either - now...or in the future.”

“No, I guess not...” Eobard chuckled at the floor, trying to catch his breath. His gut ached from the blow. “My Flash...as you put it...would have never...let me fuck him...especially on both ends.”

Barry gave an outraged snarl. “Really?” He spat, harsh, “then I guess I’ve been letting you - my prisoner - walk all over me.” His voice was more inhuman than Eobard had heard it in some time, tinged with something monstrous and nasty and vengeful. It was the same thing that defined his older self more often than not.

"Guess you have, Barr." Eobard launched back up with his own fist, connecting with Barry's jaw. Flash's head jerked to the side. He stumbled, exhaling a whimper of pain. He crashed against the wall, but used the momentum to twist back to Eobard, lashing out with his knuckles. Eobard ducked, throwing his shoulder into the Flash's sternum. He drove the man back against the wall, listening to a cough as all the air was expelled from his lungs. 

Pain exploded through Eobard's face from a well-aimed punch. The Reverse gripped his stinging cheek, off balance. Barry snarled and closed with him. Eobard kicked his kneecap, earning a cry of pain in reward. Flash fell to his good knee, wincing.

Eobard gasped for air, a little dizzy now. Damn it, an effort such as fighting really needed more than meager daily portions of fruits and vegetables fueling it.

Barry pushed to his feet, expression ferocious. He bared his teeth like a feral dog. 

Eobard smiled back. "Fighting's a little different without speed, eh, Flash?" He taunted before flinging himself back into the fray.

More blows were traded between them.

It felt good, even when it did not. There was no Speed Force here, and yet, the intimacy of them decking it out without superpowers was exquisite.

Eobard seized Barry's throat, throwing him against the wall. He drove a knee against his groin, digging it in hard as he pinned him. He knew such a position was more painful than pleasurable the way he was utilizing it, and that was his intention, because apparently Barry wanted to _fight_ instead of fuck.

“Nng,” Barry complained, squirming under him. He fought back, fists beating Eobard's arm until it was throbbing and aching. A particularly fierce strike hit his hand, and his grip slackened.

With a wrench of his lean form, the Flash slipped out from under Eobard’s bulkier one, escaping the leg between his thighs. Barry struck back at him, but Eobard blocked it. His arm stung even more at the added hit, and he figured it was probably  _covered_ in bruises at this point.

Barry growled again, wetting his lips. “I want to hurt you so _badly_.” His voice hadn’t changed in the slightest. If anything, it was more violent.

Eobard saw that his eyes were dark, darker than he'd ever seen them in this timeline, reminiscent of future Flash’s, and there was a tiny part of him that wanted to submit to it. He was disgusted with the feeling. He fought through it. He would never submit again. Barry would submit to _him,_ instead. Arousal coursed through his veins, strong and demanding. His heart hammered in his chest, and fresh energy flooded him, a spike of adrenaline making up for a lack of blood glucose. 

He deflected another hit and tripped Barry. His nemesis flumped onto the cot facedown, just as Eobard intended. He pushed on top of him, holding him against the bed. He yanked Barry's cowl off. This nonsense would end now. The Flash fought back, writhing under him, oh how he fought, but Eobard had the advantage of size, weight, and position. He grasped the man's arms in a bruising grip, holding them against the ragged sheets. He straddled his thighs. “What, Flash?" He asked scathingly. "You think...just because...you're wearing the hero's suit...you get to come in here...and take charge?” He rolled his hips against Barry's, letting his enemy _feel_ just how hard he was now.

“No,” Barry rasped. He went limp.

Finally.

Eobard relaxed at the submissive act, grinning in triumph. He ran his hands down Barry's sides, eagerness coiling in his gut. Barry made a soft noise, shivering under his touch. He roamed further, tracing the curve of his ass under the suit. _Yes_. This was how it should be. “You don't have the level of cruelty and confidence required to take control of me yet, Flash. So, are you ready to hold still and let me fuck you already?” He hooked his fingers into Barry's waistband.

Barry heaved upward with a hiss, and the unsuspecting Reverse fell back from the movement. Barry twisted around, flinging himself onto Eobard, connecting their lips in a biting, sloppy kiss. He pressed against Eobard with his entire body, hands grappling at Eobard's head and neck as he tried to pull him closer. Their erections rubbed together, separated by their suits, bodies sliding along each other with unsteadying precision.

Lust flooded his mind. Eobard growled and pushed Barry back onto the bed. He shoved down Barry’s pants, ripping them and his boots off and tossing them aside. He panted, the want he felt growing stronger as he yanked down his own pants, letting his erection spring free of his underwear. He tossed the pants and his boots aside. He then gripped under the Flash's sweat-dampened knees. He dug his fingers in and yanked his enemy's legs up. Barry exhaled, a small, " _ah_ ," escaping his lips. Eobard was spurred on. He pressed his tip against Barry's hole and drove his cock inside as well as he could, moaning. Barry yelped in pain. Eobard loved the sound, pressing forward harder. It was tight, but dry, resistant to his movements. He didn't care, though. He worked his hips, pushing deeper, struggling to fuck his reverse without any lube or even precum to help.

Something awoke in his nemesis's darkened eyes - something ablaze with wild emotion. 

Barry backhanded him across the face with sudden ferocity. Eobard's vision swam, pain surging through his head. Barry pushed him away, gasping when the Reverse’s dry erection caught on skin unpleasantly and yanked out of him.

" _My_ turn, this time," he snapped, " _Thawne_."

The Flash gripped the front of his suit and flipped them, driving Eobard onto the cot. The Reverse was momentarily dazed under the Flash. He had enough time to snort in understanding before Barry pushed the tip of his slightly wet length into him. _He_ had precum. Eobard grunted in realization as to just what was happening. Barry thrusted his hips, filling him. He yelped in an undignified manner, shocked at the stretch he felt, at the invasion in his body, at the hands that gripped his ass in a vise-like hold. He was about to fight back when Barry dragged hard and fast against his prostate...

...over and over and over again...

He lost any thought of resistance.

_Oh god._

It felt so good already, even though it _really_ shouldn't have. He'd thought he was beyond this. He'd thought he was beyond being aroused by being the submissive one in sex.

Eobard was ruined. He whimpered in pleasure, and was annoyed with the outburst when the Flash shivered in response. He clenched his jaw, determined not to let his foe have anymore satisfaction from his voice during this.

Barry moaned, eyes fluttering. He widened them suddenly, saying, “You told me...to come and...get you...so I _did_.”

“Fuck, Allen,” Eobard rasped, mind drawing a blank. _“Fuck.”_ His muscles trembled.

“ _WhaddayathinkI’mdoin’?_ ,” Barry rejoined, running all his words together so it took Eobard a moment to decipher it.

_What do you think I’m doing?_

He considered pushing Barry from him again, but god oh god, there was no way he would. He wanted _more_ Barry. He wanted his possessiveness. He wanted his dominance. He wanted his cock to keep pounding him _._ He wrapped his legs around the Flash in his red suit, drawing him in closer. Barry compliantly let him, sliding deeper inside with his next thrust.

“Fuck,” Eobard gasped again. “What a _hero_ you are,” he spat in scorn, finally able to retort something more than a one-syllable cuss.

“You like that, _pet_?” Barry snarled back, mocking with vengeful hatred he could only muster for his Reverse.

“You're...going...to...regret...this...” Eobard panted, squeezing at Barry with his muscular thighs, working a sweet, sweet noise from him.

He wondered if he could crush the air from him like this. That'd be delicious.

Without warning, Barry slowed his thrusting. He leaned forward, warm body stretching across Eobard's. The Reverse stiffened in response, wary. Barry put his lips to his reverse's ear and whispered, “feel like you're back in twenty one hundred yet?” He nibbled at his earlobe. "You're _mine_ , now, _Thawne_." His face moved down, nuzzling into Eobard's beard and inhaling deeply, leaving the Reverse Flash uncertain to this odd behavior. " _Mmm_ ," Barry hummed, sounding pleased. His lips moved to Eobard's. He bit them - hard. He increased the pressure, and kept increasing it. Eobard groaned in pain, feeling his lip split. He tasted blood when the Flash's tongue slid into his mouth. He bit back in retaliation, chewing the Flash's lips until they were bright and swollen and there was more blood.

Eobard wrapped his arms around Barry's shoulders, pulling at him.

Barry yanked away, breaking both the hold and the kiss - leaving Eobard wanting more. Their gazes met, neither of them flinching. Barry's eyes were dilated more than ever before with vicious desire. "Mine," he growled again, more animal than human at this point. "You're _my_ Reverse, this time - this _timeline_."

Eobard's cock throbbed, and he curled his fists into the cot's surface. He moaned, throwing his head back, his conviction fading in the wake of undeniably intense gratification. Barry dipped down to bite his exposed throat. The Reverse gritted his teeth as the lips roamed over his Adam's apple, teeth grazing his flesh. Flash paused at the hollow above his collarbone, shoving into the space in spite of the Reverse Flash suit in his way. His chin pushed it down. He sucked the skin painfully, surely leaving a hickey behind when he pulled away. 

“You like this, don’t you?” Barry hissed, vicious and intense amusement in his tone. He paused his thrusts completely, cock leaking and twitching inside of Eobard. The Reverse panted, feeling his body responding more. He felt fluid trickling from his own erection. His groin burned, and he wanted _more._ He wanted satiation for his lust, everything else be damned. “You like being bottom,” Flash continued, voice demented, just like the future one’s, “you just hate admitting it... And for all your claim of what an awful person I am in the future and how much you hate that me, you _like_ it. It turns you _on_.” He shifted inside of Eobard, teasing his prostate with a single massage of his cock. "I bet you _wanted_ him to do terrible, questionable things to you. Didn't you?"

He had a point. The man Eobard was now could appreciate _this_ side of his former hero. But Eobard had once been a different man. And it was that different man that loathed what the Flash really was. In other circumstances, Eobard may have been impressed with this young Barry’s sudden confidence, his assertiveness, his roughness, his cruelty - or rather, all the blossoming seeds of them that would one day turn this man into the cold-hearted beast he was.

Barry's grip on his thighs tightened painfully. "Didn't you?" He repeated in a demanding voice.

Eobard would not dignify that with a truthful response, though strangely, he found he wanted to. He wasn't sure why. All he knew was that logic and coherence were sliding away from him. "No," he grunted with the little willpower he had left, "of course I fucking didn't." But there was no strength in his words.

"I don't believe you." Barry narrowed his eyes, predatory. "You want this... Beg me, Thawne. Come on, beg for it!"

Eobard struggled against the desire to do just that. He wouldn't. He couldn't. He chose to glare up at the fiend above him, instead.

Barry gripped even tighter. He pulled out halfway, threatening to take the promise of sexual ecstasy away. "I'll leave you here just like this, if you'd rather."

"No," Eobard hissed, anger growing. "Please," he relented. "Fuck me, please, Flash."

Barry smirked. "That's better, _pet_." He began pumping as soon as the words left his mouth.

At least he would never say _F_ _anboy,_ the way that his future self-

“ _Goddamnit,_ Allen,” Eobard growled, feeling torn open and exposed. He was angry for _so_ many reasons, “put some effort into it! You fuck like a timid little bitch in this century!”

Barry snarled and threw all of his weight and power into his next thrust, pounding their hips together. Eobard gasped, absorbing the shock as pain rippled through him in waves. Flash shoved hard, rolling Eobard's thighs up almost onto his stomach so the Reverse was nearly bent in half, shoulders and neck on the bed, legs in the air. 

Allen jackhammered him, livid. 

It was beyond uncomfortable physically at this point, and yet, the pleasure center in his brain was firing all neurons. He struggled to breathe in this position, with this treatment, and oh, he swore on his family's name he would destroy Barry Allen for this - for all of it - for locking him in a cage, for manipulating him into being bottom, for destroying him in the future.

“ _Flash_ ," Eobard gasped, shuddering. "I...will...kill...you... I swear...I will....” he managed, looking straight into the devil's eyes.

“No,” Allen promised in a low, throaty voice, “you _won’t_ ever kill again...”

Flash abruptly seized, and a yell tore from his throat. _“Oh fuck, fuck!"_ He started shivering violently. Warm, wet fluid seeped into Eobard’s body. The Flash gasped at the thick air, eyes closed in gratification. He kept shaking, sweat rolling across his red face from his untidy hairline. He gripped onto Eobard in a way that suggested he might fall over if he didn't. Reverse Flash watched, desire burning through him as the Flash's chest heaved, but he wasn't quite willing to come like this - though he probably could've if he'd made an effort to be there with his enemy. 

Allen's eyes fluttered, and his spasms faded to stillness. He sighed, looking _so_ satisfied.

Eobard had enjoyed the sight of his climax, of course - Barry was equally beautiful in both pain and pleasure - but Allen still had to pay for this humiliation. He pushed up, thrusting the Flash away from him. Allen slammed against the glass, head smacking the hard surface. A small gasp of pain escaped his wonderful lips, and his eyes were unfocused again for an entirely different reason. Eobard ignored the trickling fluid leaking from his hole and the aches in his body. He leapt to his feet, invading Barry’s space. He wrapped a hand around his throat. He ground his erection on the man's thigh, enjoying the feeling it gave him.

“You think you have control, do you Flash? _Never again..._ You couldn't even make me come. You're pathetic.”

Barry began to resist, but all the angry energy that'd been fueling him before was gone. Eobard just pushed tighter, pinning him. He rolled his erection against the man's leg harder and squeezed his hand, closing off Barry's windpipe, listening to the choked exhale the other managed. He grinned, elated by this domination of his foe. Barry's eyes widened, a vein thrown into sharp focus on his forehead. His face went beet red. He fought with more energy, movements wild with panic, shoving at Eobard's chest to no avail.

Eobard was unmovable.

The Flash’s eyes rolled into his head and he went limp. He pitched forward, falling against the Reverse. Eobard stopped grinding. He lifted Barry into his arms. He was heavier than Eobard expected, but he managed to carry the unmoving man to the cot. He spread the limp body out slowly, carefully, as if it mattered. When he was done, he positioned himself between the Flash's legs.

Before doing anything, though, he stopped to take in his younger nemesis. Barry was an utter, delicious mess at this point. His hair was disheveled, and sweat glistened on his face which was pale now in unconsciousness. His features looked strangely relaxed, though, like he was sleeping somewhere safe and comforting. He was truly an alluring man, in any timeline. It was just unfortunate his beauty was superficial, as it seemed to be the case with many a human being who were blessed enough to have such graceful beauty. People like Barry only cared about themselves. 

Eobard wet his lips and longingly traced the line of Barry's clean-shaven jaw, running a hand down his neck and across the chest portion of the Flash suit. He touched the emblem that had once brought him so much joy to see, but now only hate. For just a split second, he wished things were different between them. He stamped the notion out of his mind, and returned to his inspection. There were shallow, slow breaths, but they were almost unnoticeable. Eobard couldn't help but think this is what it'd be like, to have the Flash defeated, at his mercy. He imagined, for just a moment, that he wasn't in this cage, kneeling on this cot between his reverse's legs, that he was somewhere in Central City wreaking havoc and he'd finally - _finally_ \- killed his hated enemy.

Flash would look even more beautiful in death.

He inhaled deeply. He shifted his body forward and selected a spot on Barry’s neck within the ring of splotchy red from Eobard's earlier stranglehold. He bit down and sucked, working at it until he tasted the metallic flavor of blood. He pulled back, pleased by the added angry blotch seeping crimson. A hickey for a hickey, he thought, momentarily amused.

He straightened and pulled Barry's hips up and pushed into him. He groaned, adjusting his legs to a more comfortable position and to get a better angle for his thrusts. He rolled his thighs, testing this new form of sex he was engaging in. He grew still after one push because without Barry being awake to engage with him, there was a lack of responsive tightness he enjoyed around his cock when he fucked his nemesis. Plus, he'd never really pinned himself as a somnophiliac, but then again, there were many things he'd never once considered himself that he'd become because of Barry Allen. And should he really be doing this? Was this technically non-consensual? He may have been a murderer, a sadist, but he wasn't a rapist.

But Barry had already consented to sex with him three times.

He had consented to this the moment he'd walked through the door of the cage.

It was only fair that he not hold back for him. And he was sure, in his own way, Barry wouldn't want him to. With a chuckle to himself, he began pumping his thighs.

He fucked the unconscious form of Barry Allen.

It may not have been as tight, but with Flash's body so relaxed, he found he could go deeper than before. He pushed all the way each time, burying himself balls-deep into his nemesis with every thrust. He grasped Barry's thighs, pulling his legs to his waist to feel more of him, to make the experience tighter. His muscles tensed, and he felt sweat trickling down his spine, neck and face.

Rapture flooded him. He moaned, coherence vanishing in blinding pleasure.

He came.

The orgasm shot through his entire body, down his cock, and he spilled into Barry, overflowing in his opposite. He kept pumping mindlessly in the wet warmth, gripping the long legs tighter to him, wanting to feel every sensation as much as possible. A high flooded his mind, numbing _everything_.

He stilled and slumped onto Barry, panting, the Flash emblem pressed against his own, and his chin was on the man's shoulder. After a few moments, he put his hands on the bed and pushed up from his unconscious foe. He pulled out of him and lowered his gaze, taking in the situation between Barry's legs. Rosey fluid was leaking from his hole, blood and semen mixed together. A dark chuckle escaped him. Barry was going to be _pissed_ when he realized what Eobard had done.

He glanced down at the less-appealing mess that was himself, noting his shiny, wet cock, slick and coated with bodily fluids. He finished taking the Flash suit from Barry’s body, leaving him completely nude. Uncaringly, he wiped his dick off onto the suit, drying himself as best he could on material not meant for such menial tasks. He tossed it aside and shook his head with mild wonder. This Barry was stupid, indeed. It’d be easy - so easy - to kill him now, take the key, and leave this timeline for good.

But he wouldn’t. He wanted Barry to release him of his own volition. He wanted to see the defeat and humiliation that would be in his eyes when he unlocked the door to the cell and let him out. He wanted the Flash to know _he'd_ won - that he'd _always_ win. All he had to do was be patient. Besides, he rather enjoyed this hatesex that was certain to become a regular, wonderful thing in this timeline.

He gathered his pants and pulled them on. He searched the floor for any items that may have been dropped in the confusion. There was the Big Belly Burger bag, which he sat aside for now. There was also the Flash's cage key and a bottle of lube that had been utterly forgotten. That might have been useful if Barry hadn't charged in like a wild animal. He scoffed with amusement and hid this prize under the cot. He ignored the soiled Flash suit in the corner of the cell.

Done with his investigation, he crawled onto the cot next to the Flash. Indulging the fanboy he’d once been, he curled up next to the man, draping an arm over him. He couldn't deny it; there was something definitely appealing about having the Flash completely naked in his arms while he himself wore his entire suit. There was a nice contrast between the thick material and the softness of pale, thin skin. And he felt empowered by it because the once seemingly mighty, terrible Flash, was now a mere, young, weak-willed man passed out in _his_ arms. 

Satisfied, he burrowed his nose into the man’s dark hair, inhaling a scent that was only Barry’s.

He fell asleep

* * *

Barry fluttered his eyes open, uncomprehending his blurry surroundings. He groaned. He squeezed his eyes shut again, too groggy to get out of bed yet. Somehow, he was certain he would regret it if he did.

He felt someone shift beside him. A weight rested on his chest from presumably an arm. The person exhaled with sleepiness. Barry was too relaxed to leave bed, though, and too pleased there was someone there with him. Just a few more moments of comfort first, he thought. Besides, it was chilly. He rolled toward the person, pressing against them for warmth, for the comfort that came from lying with someone else, safe and sound. He buried his face in their chest, sighing, content.

He let out a sleepy whimper, feeling the arm shift and close tighter around him in response. Basking in the intimacy there, he drifted into sleep again.

* * *

Barry’s eyes flew open, and he fought through the blurriness of his vision this time. How had he fallen back to sleep? He should have gotten up hours ago! He was late for work again! He was about to sit up when he realized there was no alarm going off. Maybe he was off today? He needed to check what day of the week it was to be sure. He reached for his phone, but his hand was blocked by something large and smooth.

He blinked a few times, the cloudiness clearing. He registered the black emblem with the red lightning bolt of the Reverse Flash suit. His fingertips lay on yellow material beside it. His breath shortened on instinct and adrenaline flooded him. He struggled to make sense of what he was seeing. He blinked once, twice, wondering if he was still dreaming, but the image didn’t fade into something more logical the way he expected it to. Inhaling with growing dread, he drew his attention back, looking up to meet shockingly blue eyes this close to his.

He hadn't realized that Eobard's eyes were blue before now.

He stared into them.

He pushed away, wrenching out of his enemy's grasp as if burned, flopping off the cot unceremoniously. He hit all the wrong places when he crashed to the ground, and a groan escaped him at the incredible soreness that resonated through his body. " _Oooowwww_..." The pain was at its worst down below, in his ass, and he refused to acknowledge why. His throat was dry and raw, and he swallowed to moisten it. He lay there for a moment, attempting to gather himself while simultaneously trying - and failing - not to think of just what he was doing here, sleeping in this cage _with his nemesis_ _._

Thawne leaned over the cot's edge and peered down at him, smiling a little. “Morning, Sunshine,” he said, tone cheery.

Creepy.

That was when he remembered. He remembered the weird, lust-filled animosity that had consumed him. He remembered fucking Thawne. Hard. Viciously. Dementedly... Maybe Thawne hadn’t made him a killer, but he'd definitely brought out the worst parts in him. It was frightening to realize he had zero control of himself when it came to the Reverse Flash. 

He shuddered and covered his face with both hands, mortified. Just what had he done? Just what had he hoped to accomplish? This couldn’t actually be happening, could it? It was bad enough he fucked his reverse. It was worse that he'd basically _stayed the fucking night with him._ Just what the hell was wrong with him lately? If it weren’t for the headache he had, he would have been tempted to hit his head a few times to see if that would knock some sense into him. This was number three. _Three_. He'd had sex with the Reverse Flash _three_ times.. _.all in under two weeks_.

_No. No. No, no, no no no no nononono...._

“ _Hello,_ ” Thawne said, breaking into his silent denial, “we both know you're no hero or saint, but you could at least have the decency to say good morning, too,” he chastised...but there was no anger in his words. There may have even been playful amusement there.

Barry pushed up. It occurred to him that he was naked, completely. He didn't say a word, just gathered each piece of the Flash suit, swallowing down disgust.

“Rude,” Thawne muttered from the cot, sitting up.

Barry purposefully ignored the stains on his suit as he pulled it on, one piece at a time, struggling and struggling with his mind. He had marched into this cell expecting to take some semblance of charge over his captive. He’d marched in here intending to fuck his prisoner and walk away with his chin up, to show both himself and his Reverse that Thawne was the one in a cell. He was the one who'd lost. Barry had had every intention of asserting some kind of authority here.

But he hadn't gained anything at all here except more shame and humiliation.

True, he'd fucked Eobard...but he’d never made it out the door afterwards. Eobard had strangled him into unconsciousness and fucked him back while he was out like a light. That hadn't been apart of the plan. He wasn't sure how he felt about that yet, only that he knew he wasn't surprised in the slightest.

Thawne had kept him here for _hours_. Well, actually, Barry didn’t know the exact amount of time that had passed. He never brought his phone to the warehouse, and he really had no way to check the time. But that fact didn’t matter. It was a long enough passage of time that he knew nothing had changed for him as far as Thawne was concerned. He was back to square one, and his enemy was no more cooperative for his efforts. Barry couldn’t help but wonder who was really the prisoner here. It seemed that no matter what he did, Thawne still won.

Eobard's voice brushed across his ears. “You should have seen yourself after I was done with you - exquisite.”

_Just shut the hell up,_ he wanted to bark back, but he had no will to voice those words.

Barry felt a sudden burning in his eyes. His throat tightened.

He froze. His back was to Eobard now, but to leave, he’d have to turn around to get the key, wherever it'd wound up in the confusion earlier; it wasn't in his suit, so he'd have to look for it. And if he turned around, Eobard would see the tears dripping down his face. He swallowed, fighting back the upset pattern his breathing wanted to jump into. He struggled to maintain normalcy. He couldn't just fall apart in front of a supervillain - _his_ supervillain. He inhaled slowly, exhaled, attempting to regulate his respiration.

What the actual fuck was he supposed to do now?

Eobard's voice broke his concentration. “Barry,” he said softly.

“ _What_ ,” he croaked back, instantly regretting his decision to respond. His one word didn’t even sound like a question. His voice was too broken with emotion and lack of use. He placed his hands on the wall and leaned his forehead against it, peering from the cage out into the empty warehouse. The tears kept dripping, though. He wasn't gaining any control of them, of _anything_.

How Thawne must sit here in this little cell every day - staring, staring, staring at nothing at all...brooding in nasty feelings, in hatred and anger.

It was no wonder he wanted to tear Barry down more than ever before.

And Barry was letting him.

“What do you want me to do!?” He bit out, hands curling into fists. “ _What?!_ I can’t let you go, Thawne! ...I can’t...let you...kill...her...” The sobs exploded from him; he couldn’t hold them back.

He was basically a monster now, and he was a pathetic excuse for one, at that. He was no better than any criminal or addict. He was no better than Eobard Thawne. He wasn't good enough to be a hero. He wasn't good enough to have this life he'd created in Flashpoint. He wasn't good enough for Iris West. He was only good enough to be the Reverse Flash's toy.

He jumped when arms slid around his waist. He hadn't heard Eobard move. Against his better judgement - did he even have any, now? - he leaned back against him, seeking some kind of support, not caring where it came from, not caring that Eobard could turn this back onto him and tear him down even more instead. “You _can_ , Barr,” Eobard murmured by his ear, sounding almost...encouraging, “you can do what you know you should. You can fix this phantasmagoria of yours...just not yet. But with time...you'll do what you have to. I know you will.” Barry felt a hand fall over his on the cage wall. Eobard's fingers wrapped around it, pulling it from the wall and turning it over.

Thawne dropped the key in his open palm.

Barry lost his breath, shaken.

It was almost as if his reverse knew he didn't want to physically turn and face him, so had gotten the key in his stead. It was almost as if he was...being considerate.

_What._

That didn't make sense.

Eobard Thawne wasn't considerate. He was a royal asshole.

He felt the Reverse Flash's unshaven beard scratch his skin, felt his lips touch his ear, whispering, “now...run, Barry. _Run_.”

Fuck it all.

There was no way this was coincidence. But he didn't feel like bringing the subject up. There was no answer to his silent question that would satisfy him.

Barry yanked from the Reverse Flash's arms and left the cage, locking it behind him. Without looking at Eobard, he spun around and burst into a run, leaving the warehouse far behind in a few short seconds.

He didn’t know what he was going to do.

And for some reason, he couldn't stop crying.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading my garbage! :D *gives you virtual cookies*
> 
> Also wanted to say that I'm probably going to try and clean up my tags for this series later. I hate disorganized tags. DX
> 
> And apologies for any typos.


End file.
